


The Girl with the Death Eater Tattoo

by bucknastybarnes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Fluff, Bucky Barnes one-shot, Bucky Barnes oneshot, Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, Bucky oneshot, Bucky x Reader, Bucky x You - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, James Buchanan Barnes - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, bucky barnes fic, bucky barnes imagine, bucky fic - Freeform, bucky fluff, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucknastybarnes/pseuds/bucknastybarnes
Summary: Bucky is curious about your tattoos.





	The Girl with the Death Eater Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> mention of violence and some sexual tension. partial nudity but no smut.

“FUCK. THIS. SHIT,” you slammed your fists against the large, metal-paneled door between each word.

“You’re wearing yourself out, doll. Give it a break for at least a minute,” Bucky’s voice dripped with annoyance from where he sat on the dirty floor of the locked room in the abandoned Hydra warehouse.

“Don’t doll me right now, Barnes. You’re not exactly being helpful,” you gave up, sliding your back down the door which you had been futilely attempting to open for the last half an hour.

“You’re forgetting that I’ve been here before. I know these facilities. The door won’t open from the inside, we’ve gotta wait for someone to let us out,” Bucky explained to you for what felt like the dozenth time.

“And who knows when the fuck that’ll be with our fucking comms being down,” you ripped the equipment from your ear, slamming it onto the floor next to you.

“You’re overreacting,” he ran his hands over his face in frustration. “They aren’t just going to leave us here.”

You knew he was right, but patience had never been your strong suit.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. In and out. Less than twenty minutes. A quickie.

The facility ended up being much more expansive than anticipated. Every last room had to be checked for potentially useful equipment and files. Tony and Rhodey were to hack into the warehouse’s mainframe while Steve and Nat swept the north wing and you and Bucky took the south.

Then a fucking door shut behind you and locked you in a room on the very bottom floor. And for some unknown reason, your communication devices took a shit at the same time. Just your luck, really.

You tried to calm yourself down. You relaxed your head back against the door, counted down from twenty, popped each one of your knuckles and took a deep breath.

“You’re right,” you sighed. “But it’s too goddamn hot in here.” You ripped the zipper to your tactical vest down, shrugging it off of your shoulders. You were left in a white camisole that was too transparent to be paired with the navy blue bra that you wore underneath, but you were too distracted by the sensation of the cold metal against your skin to feel insecure over the exposure.

You opened your eyes after relaxing for a moment to find that Bucky was staring at you.

You raised your brows at him questioningly.

“I’ve been wanting to ask,” he hesitated before pointing in your general direction. “What’s that?”

You glanced down at yourself, following his gaze to your left forearm.

“It’s a tattoo. People not have tattoos back in your day?”

You could see him grit his teeth. “I mean what is it a tattoo of?”

You trailed your finger over the edges of the black ink.

“You would know what it is if you had bothered to watch the movies on the list of “essential movies of the twenty-first century” that I wrote for you,” you grumbled.

“It’s the dark mark. It’s from Harry Potter- one of my favorite book series and movie franchises,” you held your arm out for him to get a better look.

“What about the writing on your collarbone?”

You pulled the spaghetti straps of your top to the side, further exposing the lettering.

“Roman numerals. It’s the date that I came to live in the tower. I guess I got it to celebrate a new beginning with my newfound family,” you stared down, suddenly feeling small under his gaze.

You loved all of your tattoos- they all meant something to you. However, your clothing normally covered most of them and they weren’t typically the topic of discussion asides from the average compliment on them here and there.

“How many do you have?” his voice peaked with curiosity. You weren’t used to him being quite so inquisitive.

You had to think for a moment. You had gotten several new ones recently, and the number slipped your mind.

“Uh.. eight?”

Surprise was evident on his features.

“Can I.. see them?” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle at his apprehension.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“I don’t have any tattoos. Just scars,” he shook his head.

“Both are permanent marks on your body,” you shrugged.

To your complete disbelief, he not only removed his own vest, but also the v-neck t-shirt he wore underneath, leaving him half dressed before you.

Well, if I looked that good, I’d be eager to get naked too.

“Who’s first? You or me?” he gave you a smirk that let you know he was fully aware of the effect he was having on you.

Two can play this game.

Without saying a word, you stood up and kicked off your boots.

The smirk disappeared from his face as your hands undid your belt and you pushed your pants to the floor, kicking them away from you.

Giving him a look of faux innocence, you sat down directly in from of him.

You pointed to a scar, several inches in length, located on his right pectoral.

“What is this one’s story?”

“That was sometime in the eighties, I think. Wasn’t wearing enough protective gear on a solo mission and I got overtaken by whoever it was Hydra had me trying to kill. I don’t even remember what the job was,” he gave a sad laugh, staring down at the mark before looking you over.

His eyes settled towards your feet.

“Is that.. a spider?”

“Sure is. A black widow. Got it for Nat,” you admired the small, dainty widow on your ankle. One of your favorites. She probably wouldn’t admit it, but she teared up when you showed it to her.

She had taken you under her wing immediately upon your arrival at the tower, and she was one of the closest people in your life. Getting a tattoo for her was an easy decision.

You reached for his arm, delicately tracing a scar that was located in the bend of his elbow.

“And this?”

A soft smile broke across his face.

“I can’t say that this one is as hardcore as the last. I fell out of a tree when I was twelve. Gave my ma a heart attack.”

“My mom used to sing me to sleep every night. She had the voice of an angel. The Beatles were her favorite so she would always sing Hey Jude,” you recalled fondly.

“That’s why I got this tattoo,” you held out your other forearm, showing him the lyrics in small, feminine handwriting.

Take a sad song and make it better.

“It’s her handwriting.”

“You get tattoos for people who mean a lot to you,” he stated- not a question.

“I do,” you pulled your hair to the side, exposing the back of your neck for him to see a bow and arrow.

“For Clint,” you explained.

A shit-eating grinned spanned across his face and he shook his head at you.

“So you’re telling me that you have tattoos for just about everyone except for me?” he held his hand over his heart as though you had wounded him.

“That could always change.”

Before he could hit you with a cheeky response, you heard Steve’s voice echoing from the hallway.

You jumped to your feet, forgetting that you weren’t wearing pants. You began pounding furiously against the metal door.

“Steve! We’re in here!”

You heard footsteps closing in on the room you and Bucky were.

“Stand back, I’m breaking the door down!” he called to you from the other side.

You barely noticed Bucky putting his shirt and vest back on as the door came caving in.

“Thank god you two are okay,” Nat rushed into the room, pulling you into a hug. “What the hell happened? Why aren’t you wearing pants?” she looked back and forth between you and Bucky.

“It’s not what it..” you looked at Bucky for help, but he merely winked at you and shrugged, following Steve out of the room.

“I was showing him my tattoos,” you explained meekly, picking your pants up off the floor.

“Oh yeah?” ahe lowered her voice, making sure the boys couldn’t hear her. “Did you show him the Winter Soldier star you got on your ass cheek that night we got shit faced after the mission in St. Petersburg?”

“Shhh!” you elbowed her in the ribcage a bit harder than necessary. “No, I did not,” you whispered dramatically as she snickered at you.

“I’ll show him that another time.”


End file.
